


merry christmas to all, and to all a good night

by elizaham8957



Series: Twelve Days of Stydia Christmas 2017 [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Future, Holiday, Malia is the cool aunt, Stiles and Lydia are so tired, background Scira, background draeden, married stydia, merry christmas everyone!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/pseuds/elizaham8957
Summary: Stiles felt like he’d spent about eighty percent of this day sleeping.If there was anything being a father had taught him in the past three and a half months, it was to take advantage of literally every single second that someone else was taking care of his infant daughter by sleeping for as long as physically possible. He’d thought, going into this, that the lack of sleep wouldn’t bother him— he’d spent practically the entirety of junior and senior year of high school sleeping as little as physically possible, still terrified of nightmares of the nogitsune, endless cycles of dreams where he never knew what was real. And college had been four straight years of all-nighters, with all the work for his course load. Lydia had reminded him, right before the baby was born, that he wasn’t twenty one anymore, and that they were both going to be sleep deprived for the foreseeable future. Stiles had shrugged her concerns off, assuring her he’d be fine. Definitely tired, but he’d make it work.Then his daughter was born, and he realized exactly how wrong he had been.





	merry christmas to all, and to all a good night

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I did it, folks! I can't believe I actually made it through twelve whole days of posting straight?? Go me. I did NOT have that much faith in myself. I actually have three fics going up today, so check out the other two as well-- there's a fake dating au and a coffee shop au! 
> 
> I Just wanted to thank everyone who sent in all the prompts that inspired these stories. I hope you enjoyed them! As much sleep as I did not get, I really, really enjoyed writing all these little fics. I hope you liked reading them too! 
> 
> It's weird to think that I can go write OTHER things now, because Christmas fluff has consumed my life for the past two months. I'd love to hear what you think of this, and I'm stilesssolo on tumblr and twitter if you want to talk! 
> 
> Title is from Twas the Night Before Christmas. I hope you like it, and have a very happy holiday!! :)

Stiles felt like he’d spent about eighty percent of this day sleeping. 

If there was anything being a father had taught him in the past three and a half months, it was to take advantage of literally every single second that someone else was taking care of his infant daughter by sleeping for as long as physically possible. He’d thought, going into this, that the lack of sleep wouldn’t bother him— he’d spent practically the entirety of junior and senior year of high school sleeping as little as physically possible, still terrified of nightmares of the nogitsune, endless cycles of dreams where he never knew what was real. And college had been four straight years of all-nighters, with all the work for his course load. Lydia had reminded him, right before the baby was born, that he wasn’t twenty one anymore, and that they were both going to be sleep deprived for the foreseeable future. Stiles had shrugged her concerns off, assuring her he’d be fine. Definitely tired, but he’d make it work. 

Then Felicity was born, and he realized exactly how wrong he had been. 

The best thing about celebrating Christmas with a newborn, Stiles had discovered, was that there was no shortage of people willing to hold the baby at any given time. He and Lydia had both gotten to eat dinner with  _ both their hands,  _ which was a Christmas miracle in and of itself. Felicity had slept through presents being opened, immensely uninterested in the copious amounts of gifts people had given her, and was now being held by Melissa on the opposite side of the room, blinking up innocently at her grandmother while she and Braeden cooed at her. 

Stiles knew it was probably rude to take a nap in the middle of a party, but both he and Lydia were unashamedly playing the new-parent-card, and no one seemed to really mind. Stiles was only half asleep right now, partially watching Scott’s three and four year olds playing with their new lego sets on the ground, Derek’s oldest daughter rubbing Finn’s belly so that he wouldn’t go try to eat Alex and Caleb’s creations. Lydia was a different story— she was out  _ cold,  _ her head resting on his shoulder, her legs tucked up under her on the couch, her entire body leaning into his. Stiles had one arm looped around her, thumb tracing patterns on her waist, letting her sleep. She needed it more than him, he knew. He hadn’t slept since Felicity was born, but Lydia hadn’t gotten a full night of rest since she was about seven months pregnant, and her enormous baby bump had made it impossible for her to do nearly  _ anything,  _ given how tiny she was, which had driven her insane. 

The living room was full of almost all the pack members— Stiles’s dad and Chris were still cleaning up the kitchen, but Scott was sitting on the other end of the couch, a watchful eye on his two children, Kira reclining in the armchair next to him, hands resting on her very pregnant stomach. Malia was showing Derek’s younger daughter how to use the toy crossbow her aunt had given her for Christmas, Derek’s expression  _ highly  _ apprehensive. 

“Laura, do  _ not  _ shoot that inside the house,” Derek said, voice stern, and Malia shot him an offended look.

“It’s just foam,” she argued, Laura staring at her dad with wide, innocent eyes. “She’s not going to hurt anything.”

“Yeah, you don’t know that,” Derek rebutted. “Remind me again why she needs a toy  _ crossbow?”  _

“Your wife has a literal arsenal in your garage,” Malia argued. “I thought it would be appropriate.” 

“Malia, she’s  _ four.”  _

Across the room, Scott laughed, watching the exchange in amusement. Laura quickly lost interest in the toy, joining Talia next to the Christmas tree, scratching a delighted Finn’s belly with her sister. 

Melissa stood on the other side of the room, Felicity still nestled in her arms, stepping carefully through the mess of children on the living room floor and navigating over to Stiles. “I think she needs her dad,” Melissa said, lowering the infant into Stiles’s arms. His daughter’s tiny little mouth was pulled into a pout, her eyebrows scrunched together, like she was about to start crying. “And I have to help  _ your  _ dad with getting dessert ready.” 

“Of course,” Stiles said, glancing up at Melissa. “Thanks for holding her so long, Mom.” 

Melissa smiled, patting Stiles’s shoulder affectionately, before Felicity began to whimper, and Stiles’s attention turned back to his daughter. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetie,” Stiles murmured, shifting his arms to cradle her more comfortably, tracing one finger along the side of her little head. “I’m here, okay? Don’t cry. You’re okay.” 

He rocked his arms gently, trying to simultaneously calm down his daughter and not wake Lydia up. “Shhh,” he soothed, swaying gently. “Come on, sweetie, it’s alright. Don’t wake your mom up.” 

“Too late,” Lydia murmured, her head lifting off Stiles’s shoulder as she blinked sleepily, smoothing her curls back into place. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

Felicity whimpered again as Lydia leaned over Stiles’s shoulder, one hand braced on her husband, the other gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand. Felicity just blinked up at her mom, amber eyes wide. It still caught Stiles off guard, seeing his eyes in their daughter. She looked like Lydia in almost every other way— she had Lydia’s hair color, her head covered in a layer of strawberry blonde fuzz, and her mom’s little nose, and full lips— but seeing his daughter’s eyes was like looking in a mirror. 

“I think she’s hungry,” Lydia said, leaning into Stiles. “I’ll go feed her before dessert starts.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, kissing Lydia briefly, transferring the baby over to her arms. “Just call if you need anything; I’m sure one of the werewolves will hear.” 

“Will do,” Lydia said, standing up, cradling Felicity to her chest. Melissa reentered the living room with a plate of cookies as soon as Stiles heard the soft click of one of the bedroom doors down the hallway, Lydia closing it behind her. 

“We have so many cookies,” Melissa said. “And then there’s pie and cake in the kitchen too.” 

Stiles made a face at the platter of cookies Melissa was holding, seeing that they were the ones Lydia had decorated yesterday. They looked  _ gorgeous,  _ Christmas trees and wreaths piped on in green royal icing, dotted with silver and gold sugar pearls for ornaments, sprinkled with luster dust so they shimmered in the lights from the Christmas tree. But he had eaten one yesterday when Lydia wasn’t looking, and he knew the truth. 

“Just a warning,” he said, voice light, and Scott turned to look at him, one hand still intertwined with Kira’s. “Lydia made those cookies yesterday, and neither of us have gotten a good night sleep in approximately four months, so she definitely read the recipe wrong and added way too much salt or something. They taste  _ horrible.”  _ Everyone regarded him, expressions mildly alarmed. “However, if  _ any  _ of you say a word about how they actually taste to my  _ extremely  _ sleep deprived wife, I will personally murder you. Just so we’re all clear,” he finished, selecting a cookie that Lydia had  _ not  _ made from the tray. Scott, always the one to give the benefit of the doubt, picked up one of Lydia’s gorgeously decorated cookies, biting into it and grimacing. 

“Uh, yeah,” he said, voice apologetic and a little garbled from the cookie in his mouth. “These are awful.” 

“Can we just tell her they were too pretty to eat?” Kira suggested, meeting Stiles’s gaze. He nodded emphatically. 

“Definitely.”

Lydia reentered the room a minute later, smiling gratefully when Kira immediately told her how beautiful her cookies had come out, before taking her spot on the couch next to Stiles again. He offered her one of Melissa’s homemade cookies he’d snagged before the tray had made its way completely around the room, because Melissa’s desserts had a tendency of completely disappearing whenever they passed by Malia. She accepted it gratefully, leaning into him again as she ate the cookie one-handed, the other arm cradling Felicity, who seemed  _ much  _ more content now. 

“Oh, crap,” Stiles muttered, because if it was dessert time, that meant it was  _ also  _ time for something else. “I forgot what time it was.” 

Lydia arched an eyebrow, smirking at her husband. “You have to disappear to the North Pole?”

“I can’t believe I almost forgot,” he admitted, shaking his head as he stood. He squinted, reevaluating. “Nevermind, I can. I haven’t slept in half a year.” 

Lydia just laughed as Stiles made his way over to Scott in the kitchen, careful not to step on any children. “It’s Santa time,” Stiles told his best friend, voice low. Every year now, Stiles dressed up as Santa and rang the front doorbell, letting the kids tackle him and tell them all about their Christmas presents. It had started almost six years ago as a joke, back when Talia was one and the only kid in the pack, and had slowly morphed into a tradition of Melissa and Noah’s Christmas day celebrations. 

“Is the costume still in the back bedroom?” Stiles asked, and Scott pulled a face, apprehension flitting through his eyes. Stiles knew that look. “Oh, god. What is it, Scotty?” 

Scott opened his mouth to respond, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything— instead, the doorbell of the house rang, and the kids, knowing who it was, all screamed, making a beeline for the door. 

As soon as Talia pulled it open, they all screamed again, Santa stepping into the house, laughing jollily. Stiles’s jaw dropped, watching the four kids fawn over Santa, because… that was  _ Isaac,  _ in the Santa costume, dressed up and willingly getting tackled by small werewolf children. 

“Scott,” Stiles said, and it was clear how offended he was just from his tone of voice. “Did you  _ give my Santa duties  _ to  _ Isaac?”  _

“Calm down,” Isaac said, the kids disappearing back into the living room, clearly waiting for Santa to follow behind them. Even with his fake beard and Santa hat, Stiles could see the smug expression on his face. 

“No, I will  _ not  _ calm down, but thanks,” Stiles retorted. “I’m  _ always  _ Santa. You  _ stole my frickin’ job!”  _

“I didn’t think you would want to do it this year, because of your baby,” Isaac continued. Stiles spluttered indignantly, his hands flailing. 

“Why the hell would I not be Santa again this year? I do this every single Christmas! And you just think you can—”

“Hey, asshole, will you be quiet and let me talk?” Isaac hissed. “I’m trying to tell you I did this so you could spend time with your  _ wife  _ and newborn  _ daughter  _ instead of getting tackled by a horde of kids.” 

Stiles froze at that, unsure what to say. “Oh,” he finally settled on, even though he knew it was supremely dumb. He was way too sleep deprived to come up with anything else, though. 

“Yeah,” Isaac responded, his voice only  _ slightly  _ mocking. “So go spend time with them. I’ll take care of the kids.” Dumbfounded, Stiles turned, walking back to Lydia on the couch— which was a  _ significantly  _ easier task when the four children usually sprawled across the carpet were chasing Santa. 

“No Santa this year?” Lydia asked, shifting Felicity in her arms to support her head more. 

“No, there’s a Santa,” Stiles said, voice still a little dejected. “But Isaac did something surprisingly nice, and now I can’t justifiably be an asshole to him.” 

Lydia laughed, shaking her head at him, her eyes shining. “I’m serious, Lydia,” he responded, but he couldn’t help laughing too. “Now I have no valid excuse for making fun of his scarves!”

“Let Isaac and his neckwear be,” she reprimanded, leaning into his side again.

“I don’t know how I can do that with a clear conscience,” Stiles argued. “That guy owns way too many scarves for a normal human being.” 

Felicity yawned in Lydia’s arms, her tiny mouth opening wide, her eyes squeezing shut, and both he and Lydia fell silent, watching their little girl with awe. It still seemed unreal, to have this little tiny person in front of them, half Lydia and half Stiles, to see her moving and breathing and  _ being.  _ Stiles still remembered the feeling in his chest when Lydia had told him she was pregnant last Christmas— like suddenly his heart had expanded, swelling with love for this person he didn’t even know yet. And now that she was  _ here,  _ in  _ front  _ of them— Stiles never thought he’d love anyone as much as he loved Lydia. But looking at their daughter, her tiny little hands, her beautiful amber eyes, her strawberry blonde hair, just like her mom’s— Stiles couldn’t even describe how much he loved his little girl.

He glanced over at Lydia, her eyes still trained on the baby, and he knew she felt exactly the same way. 

“This may just be because I haven’t slept in literally months,” Stiles said, leaning into his wife, “but it still seems kind of unreal that she’s here, doesn’t it? She’s like a Christmas miracle, or something.” 

Lydia laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well, she was born in September, so I don’t think that’s necessarily true.” 

“Still,” Stiles said, eyes fixed on his daughter. Felicity peered back up at him, eyes wide and light, and his heart swelled with how much love he felt for her. For Lydia. For their little family. “She’s pretty incredible, right?”

“Yeah,” Lydia agreed, meeting his eyes, her expression soft, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “She is.” 

Stiles tore his eyes away from Lydia, looking around the room. Malia and Braeden talking on the couch, Derek sitting next to them, smirking at their conversation. Chris and the Sheriff still handing out desserts. Scott and Kira on the other couch, Scott’s hand resting on his wife’s stomach, Kira’s smile so soft. All the kids climbing all over Isaac, sitting next to the Christmas tree. And Melissa watching all her grandchildren, biological or not, her eyes warm in the light of the Christmas tree. 

“I’m glad we’re all together,” he whispered to Lydia, his head leaning against hers. “Our little family. Our  _ big  _ family. Just… everyone being here.” Stiles’s heart felt full and content, surrounded by everyone they knew and loved. Their  _ pack. _

“Mmm.” Lydia smiled, her eyes shining as she looked from her daughter to her husband. “Me too.” 


End file.
